***This was written during a time when the autumn is fading and the first tentative blasts of winter lie just out of sight around the corner.
It's still October and the first freak three-inch snowstorm has made its entrance and slunk out like a person who has blundered into the wrong high-school class and only realized it after sitting down.
This chapter has some three-way in it, though I didn't try to write it like the more usual fuck-fests. The youngest character in this chapter is 18, just saying.
I wrote it out of what I thought one of the characters might be hoping for in her heart under very strange and trying circumstances.
Her name is Red Nadya and she wants a better life. Well who doesn't? But there's a destiny to her heritage. Much of this chapter - which sort of revolves around her - details her climb out of the pit with a little help from witchers.
If you're in the mood and it's cold and rainy (if you're lucky and it hasn't snowed yet wherever you are, or if you're in the southern hemisphere and it's warming up and you wonder what the hell I'm on about), read this in a quiet place the way that it was written if you can, listening to the wind blow the leaves around on a dark and cold night.
If that means that you're in a coffee shop with a pocketful of change to buy another cup - I envy you.
The ones around here have Literotica blocked.
0_o
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She felt pleasantly warm.
A thought ran through her head of hearing about a place where humans go after they die where everything is pleasant and nice. Heaven, she remembered as the name of it.
She knew that animals were not supposed to go there, from what had been said to her, and that someone made a judgement in every case regarding admission.
She smelled dry heat from a warm fire and she could pick up a hint of woodsmoke as well as hear the quiet crackle of the logs.
Maybe she'd been close enough to be allowed inside.
She opened her eyes then and found herself lying on her side on top of the covers on a soft bed with a warm blanket over her and it felt so good.
Her nose switched itself on and she sniffed a little very quietly. What was returned to her was a vague and oddly comforting male scent, though it was just a hint and not much more.
She picked up the other scent then and her memory sought for what that was, since a feeling of alarm seemed to be attached to that smell.
When she focused farther out, she knew that if this was that heaven place, then it must be someone else's and not hers.
The gray beast who had taken her legs out from under her sat in a chair before the fire.
She didn't know where she was or which way to run if it came to another chase, but she tensed her muscles in preparation for it anyway.
The beast looked over then and he smiled, "Ah, you are awake, sister. Can you sit up? I have a bowl of hot soup from the kitchen waiting for you."
She raised her head very cautiously and looked around. There didn't seem to be anywhere that she could run even if he gave her a head start.
"Where is this place?" she asked in the same speech that he'd used as she rose up nervously on her knees, "Why am I here? Am I a prisoner?"
She was something a little odd for most Kurtadam, he noticed then, wondering why it had escaped his notice earlier. He supposed that it was because then, she'd been little more than a limp form, and given the way that one could see her ribs easily and the way that she'd looked so -- well, disheveled and emaciated, he guessed that it had passed him by, being more concerned that she lived and was not as close to death's door as Koten had plainly feared.
The tone of her fur was a little closer to red than it was to the brown of the Kurtadam who showed that color. Her ears looked a little larger than the usual proportion allowed as well.
Another odd thing was her tail, since it was rather bushy and long for one of her overall size and it ended in a patch of white. The ruff of fur at her throat was white as well, though it eased itself into an almost black 'V' a little lower down and above her breasts, and those breasts were covered in the same color of fur as most of the rest of her. In some ways, she reminded him of a sort of fox. It was just what his impression of her evoked in him and he didn't know where the idea came from.
She leaned on one paw to steady herself a little and he saw that the brown ended near about her elbow. From there on down -- both forearms -- the fur was almost back as were her hands, her long legs, and her feet.
Her eyes were the quickest parts of her, given the present state of her health and her nervousness. They were questioning and thoughtful and he remembered what she'd asked.
He shook his head, "No, you are not a prisoner. Why would you ask such a thing? You are in a part of the Kurtadam fortress; as safe as you could ever be. We only need to find out how you came to be so far outside there starving and once we learn of who your family is, you can return to them.
Strange that I did not hear of any who were lost, I usually do most times."
"I am a prisoner then," she said with a sigh, "I do not belong here. I am only half-Kurtadam."
Natan's eyes widened at that. "Such a thing is said to have happened only once. So then you must be the one. I have heard of it, but I thought it was only a legend or a rumor."
She almost sneered at that.
"I am weak and have not eaten in so long that I cannot remember it clearly. I live in a burrow in the ground because a human who once whored me out and sought to force me to work for him again found the poor little home where I grew up and burned it down. I smell of the bare earth that I sleep on every night and I spend my days hoping to find something to eat at least once more before I die."
She tilted her head, "Does that sound like the life of a legend to you?
What has happened to me? I remember that you overtook me and I fell."
Natan shifted so that he sat near the edge of the chair and she prepared to run.
"Please," he said, holding up his hand, "Rest easy. I have been waiting so long for you to wake up that my bottom has gone numb, that is all.